As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. It was bleeding again. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. We have seen great and sober-minded men come to this unholy city, and become degenerates. But he would die if he continued in this course. ” He paused, with his eyes studying her gravely. ” She laughed. Did you realize?\" Lucy's mouth twisted into a half-smile that she could not help. She stole her glances sideways like the rest of the women. Both had dropped the rather elaborate politeness of the dining-room, and in their faces an impartial observer would have discovered little lines of obstinate wilfulness in common; a certain hardness—sharp, indeed, in the father and softly rounded in the daughter—but hardness nevertheless, that made every compromise a bargain and every charity a discount.
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